The tragic story of the shrimp scampi and pasta

Update: We had the shrimp scampi again for dinner last night. She ate it no problem. No drama. No events. So we gave her a reprieve. No more shrimp scampi for her, and she can watch TV again starting today -- unless she gets into trouble again. If she does, the full punishment comes back.

It all started innocently enough. My husband made dinner, pre-made frozen shrimp scampi from a bag. We were rushed. It was quick.

My daughter just refused to eat it. Any of it. (I have to admit it was probably the world's worst shrimp scampi, no offense to my husband. No taste; soggy with peppers. Who puts red peppers in shrimp scampi?)

We have ongoing problems with my daughter refusing to eat. My husband thinks she should eat some, and I basically agree. I don't believe in making separate meals for my kids, but I don't believe in force-feeding them either. Requiring them to eat "some" -- with my husband or I defining "some" seems a good compromise.

She was eating tiny bits, less then a centimeter length of pasta at a time. Finally, my husband gave her a deadline to finish part of what was in her bowl: "Finish by 7 p.m. or you're eating this every night this week" he told her.

Now the point of exaggerated parental threats is that they will scare the kids into listening. It didn't: 7 p.m. came and my daughter sat there, a full bowl of pasta before her, tears streaming down her face. She came up with every excuse. I'm tired. I'm cold. I have to go to the bathroom. She had barely eaten a teaspoonful at this point.

My husband went into the living room to play on the Wii, and I took over, pretty annoyed by now that our whole evening had been taken up with this craziness. I told her she needed to eat some by 7:10 p.m. or she wasn't watching TV for a month. Again, the parental hyperbole was intended to motivate my daughter.

It didn't. It was 7:10 p.m. and my daughter sat, still crying with a full plate of pasta before her.

Then things go worse. I saw her get up and throw something in the trash. The industrious 6-year-old had wrapped the pasta in a napkin and thrown it out. I caught her.

I was so annoyed at that point, that I told my husband: "You deal with her. I'm going upstairs."

My husband pulled the napkin out of the trash, and told my daughter she had to eat the pasta inside.

Then she took her shower and went to bed.

The kicker: This afternoon, my husband calls from the airport -- he's enroute to Memphis to cover Syracuse University in the Sweet Sixteen. He leaves me a message: "I bought another bag of the shrimp scampi. Make sure (our daughter) eats it tonight."

Now in hindsight, I think we both kind of over-reacted, although I doubt my husband will agree with that. My daughter was belligerent, and she deserves a punishment. I think having to eat the gross shrimp scampi every night may be extreme -- plus that means I need to eat it, too, or make two dinners. I know the "no TV for a month" was out of hand.

A colleague suggested that I grant a reprieve for good behavior like the ones prison inmates get: If my daughter eats without complaint tonight, she gets a reprieve from the rest of the week. That may be a good solution. It wasn't one of our family's finer moments.